


Misha Calling the Kettle...Wait, Blow Job?

by thursdaysfallenangel



Series: The Real Life Adventures of Misha and Jensen [14]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Jared ships it, Most likely how it happened, blow job mentions, promises of sexual escapades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6556951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thursdaysfallenangel/pseuds/thursdaysfallenangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen didn't even know he was nominated for one of those dumb PCAs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misha Calling the Kettle...Wait, Blow Job?

**Author's Note:**

> It has come to my attention that we are reaching the two year mark of the horrible horrible JIBV, where I started writing these adventures in order to fix everything. Can you believe two short years later we've got so much cockles?
> 
> We're spoiled.
> 
> This is 1/3 new installments.

People are looking at him. More than usual, he means. He’s gotten used to it, what with being an actor and everything, except they’re on set, so seeing him around isn’t that big a deal. Yet again, he is with Jared, who could be doing any number of things to make the crew stare at them.

“So Gen’s holding Shep above Tom, and Tom’s screaming. Like a bloodcurdling scream, I don’t know where the kid got his lungs. And Gen’s trying to be heard over him going, ‘JARED. JARED. WE’RE OUT OF PEANUT BUTTER!’ so of course I—“

“Hey,” Jensen’s loath to interrupt Jared in the middle of one of his typical Sunday night stories, but his skin is really starting to itch. “People looking at us?”

“Looking at us?” Jared pushes his hair out of the way and frowns, looking around. “People are always looking at us.”

Jensen snorts and shoves his shoulder. “Shove it up your ass, Padalecki.”

“No but really,” Jared grins. “Why are you wigging out?”

Jensen catches the eye of a PA who quickly looks away, his pace quickening. “That! Did you see that?” A horrible, horrible thought dawns on him and he rounds on Jared. “What the fuck did you do?”

“What?” Jared asks, except Jared is so used to fucking with people that even when he hasn’t done something, his natural innocent look seems guilty as hell.

“Did you mess with somebody?” Jensen’s eyes widen slightly. “I swear to god Jared, if you started something with Misha without telling me first…”

Jared laughs loudly. ”Relax,” he says, shit-eating grin still in place. “Old age is making you paranoid. Jess! Hey, Jess!” he starts waving at the women with a headset clipped firmly over her ears and a clipboard in hand, beckoning her over. “You got a sec?”

“Not really,” she smiles. “Aren’t you two supposed to be somewhere?”

“Come on Jess,” Jared chides.  “You expect Jensen to be able to act when he’s the center of attention all of a sudden?”

“Hardee har,” Jensen says dryly, shooting a suspicious look at another crew member who seems to find him amusing. “There some joke I’m missing here?”

“Other than your face?” Jared says immediately, because Jared has a book full of second grade level comebacks at home.

“His face is definitely not a joke,” Jess says, tapping her clipboard. “How do you two always miss the best gossip? Misha’s been crowing in the make-up trailer all morning. Jamie finally stuffed a paper towel in his mouth to shut him up.”

Jensen stares at her.

“Did that make him quiet?” Jared asks with interest.

She shrugs. “Kinda.”

“Huh,” he says thoughtfully.

Jensen opens his mouth to say something to derail whatever thoughts Jared is beginning to have, but quickly changes his mind before paper towels sodden with Misha’s saliva end up in his jacket pockets. “So exactly what gossip are we missing here?”

“Seriously,” Jess shakes her head. “How are you the last to know?”

“I don’t know why everyone thinks it’s so fucking funny not to tell me things,” Jensen growls, and Jared puts his hand over his heart.

“The dad voice is next,” he says in a dramatic whisper.

Jensen flips him off.

Jess shakes her head in exasperation, her eyes narrowing as she apparently listens to something over her headset. “Be there in ten,” she responds, patting Jensen on the shoulder. “Congrats, you won the PCA.” With that she heads off, presumably to help someone splatter fake blood somewhere, or to drag one of the extras out of craft services.

“What?” Jensen says dumbly.

Jared’s already lost it, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. “Dude. You knew you were up for hottest underwear model or something, right?”

“Shut up,” Jensen tells him. He’s spotted Misha sauntering towards them and he really does not need the combination of both of them before the news has had time to settle.

“Who’s gonna design your dress?”

Jensen sinks a fist into his stomach just as Misha reaches them, and the man watches with a detached sort of interest as Jared doubles over with a loud (and overly dramatic, in Jensen’s opinion) “oof!”

“Did he steal your Butterfinger?” Misha asks seriously.

“You,” Jensen points at him. “Not a word.”

Misha blinks at him, “not even hemidemisemiquaver?”

“No. Shut up.” Jensen does not have the mental capacity for this right now as Jared continues to play out his dramatic death somewhere near his stomach.

“You’re hardly going to improve your vocabulary if I’m not allowed to say words, Jen.”

“Fine, say words. Just not the ones I know you want to say.”

“What’s the point of words,” Misha says seriously, and the fucking asshole is getting into it now, the kind of glint in his eyes Jensen usually only sees when they’re out at a bar and he’s effing around with some poor random idiot who thinks he actually has a chance at taking him home, “if I’m not able to shower you with the proper amount of praise that this highest of accolades deserves?”

Jared seems to have recovered from the fist to his gut. Either that or he’s finally gotten bored of himself, because he pops upright with a snicker and says, “You have a PCA.”

“That’s how we know it means something,” Misha grins. “That and you not having one are the only criteria.”

“Fuck you,” Jared says happily, slinging an arm around Jensen’s shoulder.

Jensen tunes out their bickering, a skill he picked up about halfway during the fourth season.

He never wanted a PCA, really. Sometimes he’d get that, from fans or other people, that his acting was so good he deserved an award, and he just…didn’t need it. As long as people liked his work, as long as it made someone happy, he was satisfied with it, and he didn’t need some cheap glass trophy to show off about it. 

‘Course, he wasn’t gonna deny it was one of the better trophies he’d seen. Jared had only pointed out what it looked like after Misha tweeted a picture of himself licking it, and Jensen would deny until the day he died that he took any part of the ‘you wanna eat out tonight Mish?’ jokes that followed.

“Jensen?”

“What?” Jensen focuses on Misha, who’s looking at him expectantly.

Misha’s eyes are wide and earnest. “When do you want your congratulatory blow job?”

Jared starts choking on air, or maybe his own spit, Jensen could really give a fuck at the moment. He can feel his face turning red, and he not only hates his fair complexion, he fucking hates that Misha actually caught him off guard enough to make him _blush_ , something he usually has under control.

“You won a PCA,” Misha says, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“I know that.”

“No need to brag,” he grins, tilting his head. “I can see this has inflated your ego tremendously.”

“Shut up, Mish,” Jensen replies, scrubbing at his face.

“Really though,” he says quietly. “Good job.”

“Misha!” someone calls from across the wide warehouse space, pulling him away from Jensen and Jared with a wave.

“Wow,” Jared says, and Jensen barely has a chance to drag his gaze away from Misha’s retreating backside. “He’s kind of disgustingly proud of you.”

“Shut up,” Jensen mutters. “It’s not even a big deal.”

“The fans love you,” Jared coos. “Misha’s so happy they love you.”

“You want a foot up your ass?”

“Not as much as you want your dick in Misha’s mouth,” Jared shoots back quickly, and Jensen’s actually surprised at the five minutes of restraint he’d managed to display regarding that comment.

He considers hitting him again when suddenly it dawns on him. “Fuck,” he groans. “I have to thank them.”

He feels a presence at his shoulder and knows without really looking that Misha has returned.

“Did he just realize he has to speak in public?”

“An actor’s worst nightmare,” Jared says seriously.

“Help me,” Jensen says, only half joking.

He feels Misha’s shoulder rise up in a shrug. “Okay.”

Jensen glances t him hesitantly. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Misha says firmly. “We’ll do it in my trailer.”

“Your trailer?”

Misha smirks slightly. “I promised you sexual escapades. Besides,” he continues thoughtfully. “I think I have a tea kettle.”

Jensen’s not sure how those two things relate. He doesn’t ask.

He’ll find out later.


End file.
